Ch. 3
2004
The day after he arrived back home from Jackpot, Nevada, he went out and bought an engagement ring. It was impulsive and stupid. He nearly took it back but then decided to hang on to it just in case he worked up the nerve to actually ask her to marry him, one day.
Today wasn't that day.
Going over to her apartment, he walked in with a case of beer in his hand. He left the box with the engagement ring in the car. It'd been a while since he brought whiskey over, and he was trying to quit smoking. Making a promise was one thing, keeping it was another. He had to restrict himself. That meant he wouldn't drink whiskey before or during their time together. He never needed to drink it after.
He never hated himself or felt guilty for being with Sara.
Early the next morning, he left Sara in her bed as he showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt before leaving. It took him a little over thirty minutes to drive to Spring Valley. He entered a nice housing estate across from a park with two-story family homes and yards. All the houses looked relatively the same with beige or cream-colored walls and terracotta clay tile roofs.
Pulling into the driveway, he spotted his mother's car. Son-of-a-bitch. Why was she here so early in the morning? Opening his glove compartment, he dug around until he found the gold band and slipped it onto his left ring finger before getting out. He picked up the newspaper as he entered the house and was immediately greeted by the smiling face of his daughter.
Charlotte threw down her book bag as she signed, /Daddy/ while running over to him.
Scooping her up into his arms, he gave her a big hug and kissed her cheek as he headed for the kitchen. He smelt coffee. As he walked into the kitchen, he saw both his wife and mother seated at the table in the middle of the room, cups of coffee between the two.
Julia spotted him first and signed, /Gil's home./
Betty, his mother, turned to look at him as he dropped the newspaper on the table and gave Julia a kiss on the cheek first before his mother. Charlotte had yet to release her tight grip around his neck. Letting the two women get back to their conversation, he poured himself a cup of coffee. As he sipped it, he looked out the window into the back yard. There was a playset he'd gotten his daughter for Christmas, a flower bed and vegetable garden, and a deck with a grill, table and chairs. He didn't use or tend to any of it. This house wasn't his house. He didn't live there. It wasn't his home.
Charlotte was also looking out the window with her head resting on his shoulder. /I need a pool./
He almost laughed. And she was right. She did need a pool. Maybe he'd get her one for her eighth birthday, which was this Sunday. Today he had promised her that he'd drive her to school and then after school they'd go get ice cream. With her, he always kept his promises.
Going back into the living room, he finally got Charlotte unwound from his neck as he sat her down on his lap while sitting on the couch. He took a drink of the coffee before placing the cup on the coffee table. On the floor was the book bag that she'd thrown when he arrived.
Picking it up, he unzipped it and grabbed her school folders and books off the table and shoved them inside. One of them was Charlotte's Web by E.B. White. It was her favorite book and namesake.
/My little spider/ he signed to her as she grabbed the bag and shrugged it onto her shoulders. /What's on today's agenda?/
/We're having a party in Miss Miller's class for Noodles. It's his birthday too./
He had to ask, /Noodles?/
/The class rabbit!/
He chuckled as he picked up the coffee and took a drink. Kids, he thought as he shook his head. Then he realized that it was a pretty good name. Carrying the empty cup back into the kitchen, he cleaned it out and put it on the counter to dry. Getting his wife's attention, he told her while signing, /We're leaving now. Is there anything you need me to do while I'm out?/
She got up and grabbed a list off the refrigerator and handed it to him. Pulling his glasses out from his pocket, he slipped them on and read it over. It was a list of things needed for Charlotte's birthday party, including groceries.
He was pocketing it when she told him, /Your mother's gallery opening is tomorrow at three in the Arts District. Charlotte's game is at one—/
/I'm taking her to the game and assisting with coaching. Then we'll meet you at the gallery./ He glanced towards the living room to make sure Charlotte wasn't peeking around the wall or anything before telling her, /We're going to Adventuredome today after school. It's a surprise./
Julia smiled her approval. /She'll be thrilled. Have a good time./
He left the kitchen and then the house with his daughter in his arms. He'd missed her so much he didn't want to ever let her go, and neither did she as it was a struggle to get her into the car. By the time he had her seat belt on she was laughing at him. He loved hearing her laugh and seeing her smile.
Her features were the perfect mixture of himself and her mother. She had his blue eyes and nose, her mother's blond hair and high cheekbones. Her smile was someone else's entirely; it was purely Charlotte's. The girl was gonna be drop dead gorgeous and he was going to have to threaten a lot of boys before she turned eighteen, but hey, a dad's gotta do what a dad's gotta do.
He started the car and as he turned around in the seat to back out of the driveway, she asked, /Can you take the top off?/
He shook his head as he signed, /No./
She pouted and crossed her arms and he nearly laughed. She looked just like her mother.
The school for the deaf was just north of Spring Valley and it was a relatively short drive, but it was always worth it as he got to see her off to school with a hug and kiss bye. He signed that he loved her as she signed "spider" back at him. Her own way of telling him the same. Once she was safely inside the school, he got into his car and drove back to Sara's apartment.
Taking the ring off, he put it into the glove compartment and then got out of the car. It was after eight in the morning, the sun was finally breaking over the horizon, and he was exhausted. He could sleep for a few hours then go to the store by eleven or twelve, take it all to Julia's house, that would be about one, or worse two, depending on traffic. That gave him an hour before he had to pick up Charlotte. Tomorrow was her first little league game and his mother's gallery opening. Sunday was the birthday party. He had a three-day vacation off of work so he could do everything. He didn't have to go back to the crime lab until Monday evening.
It was going to be a long weekend, he thought as he picked up Sara's newspaper off the ground and walked inside. She was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. He smelt coffee and smiled as he tossed the newspaper on the counter beside the plate of vegan omelets and wrapped his arms around her waist as he kissed her neck. She leaned back against him as he smiled into her hair.
Closing his eyes, he breathed her in as he rubbed his hands over her stomach, down her thighs, and then grabbed her hips and pulled her against him as he nuzzled her neck.
She started laughing. "I'm still not used to that beard yet. It tickles."
"I want you," he spoke into her ear.
"We need food first. I'm starving."
"So am I," he said as he slipped his hand down between her bare stomach and her pajama pants.
Leaning her head back on his shoulder, she kissed his neck as her hand reached up to grab his hair as he turned his lips towards hers. Reaching over, he turned off the stove then moved her over to the couch and pushed her down into the cushions. He yanked her pajamas down, unzipped his jeans, and as he kissed her hard, he slid deep inside of her body until her breath hitched and he couldn't go any deeper. It was agonizing, torturous, until they were both breathless.
Her hands ran through his sweaty hair as he kissed her growling stomach, tasting the sweet salt of her skin. It was all he wanted. As his kisses went lower, she said, "Gil?" He hummed between her legs, making her squirm. "Are you trying to kill me? This is not how I want my dead body to be found—"
He started laughing as he heard her stomach growl again. His stomach was also growling, gnawing away at the cup of coffee he had this morning and nothing else. Kissing her thighs, he moved away, grabbed her hands, and pulled her loose and slack body up to his. Giving her a kiss, he let her get back to making them both breakfast.
Five hours later he was finally getting back to Julia's house. He used his foot to push open the front door as he carried the bags full of food and supplies for the party. He didn't hear anything and when he got into the kitchen, he saw it was empty. There was a note on the refrigerator. Julia was helping his mother prepare for the gallery opening tomorrow.
He went back to his car and grabbed out one more item. It was a box with a plastic pool inside. Taking it into the backyard, he left it on the deck and went back inside to put the groceries away. Once everything was done, he went upstairs to the master bedroom that wasn't his bedroom at all. It was solely Julia's but he'd slept in the bed many times while she was gone. Pulling off his clothes, he climbed into bed and closed his eyes. The alarm would go off forty-five minutes before he had to leave.
As he laid there, trying to take a quick nap, his mind drifted as he thought about Julia. How they first met. How he became a father.
All the way back to 1977.
The sun was high up in the summer sky as the heat kept climbing. It was Fourth of July weekend and he and his best friend Ryan, and Ryan's girlfriend Linda, had taken a road trip all the way up to the Bay Area, specifically Oakland for the outdoor concert where Lynyrd Skynyrd was performing. They'd gotten tickets to the sold-out concert from a friend of Ryan's dad, packed up the 1974 El Camino, and headed north.
As "Free Bird" started to play, they were already hammered, and Ryan had his shirt off. He was practically draping himself over his girlfriend's back as he pulled her in close, sticking one of his hands down into the front pocket of Linda's jeans. Several rows in front of them was a guy with a busted nose that Ryan had punched in the face earlier for making a pass on his girlfriend. The guy sneered at them with blood drops staining the front of his shirt.
Ignoring the guy, and everyone else around him, he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses as he started to sway as the music and the noise of the crowd filled up his soul. That's what it sounded like, as if his soul was being filled up with the electric guitar, the drumming, and then Ronnie Van Zant's voice echoed over the crowd as he started singing.
They all started singing.
He was no exception as he sang out, "If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me…For I must be travelin' on now, there's too many places I've got to see…If I stay here with you girl, things just couldn't be the same, 'cause I'm as free as a bird now…and this bird you cannot change!...Lord knows, I can't change!"
Nor did he want to change despite how everyone around him was trying to change him. He'd been fighting everyone his entire life; from school yard bullies to his own mother, the church, and even God. He was at war with everyone, even himself. The only exception was Ryan. He wasn't at war with his best friend.
Then as the band launched into the guitar solo, Ryan screamed out, "Hell yeah!" as he nearly jumped onto his girlfriend's back as he spun his t-shirt around in the air. "Turn that shit up!"
He smiled. That was his best friend. Ryan was absolutely everything he wasn't but wanted desperately to be: free. Free from guilt and shame. Free from his mother and the church and all their stupid ridiculous rules that they wanted him to live by.
He'd been raised Catholic with a strict mother who made him think and believe that anything and everything he did was wrong and a sin. He couldn't cuss, he couldn't drink, he couldn't have sex or even please himself. It was dirty, sinful, and he was wrong. Everything about him was wrong. Everything he did was wrong. Everything that made life fun was a sin.
His mother had made him feel guilty for even being alive. Everything was his fault. If she had a way to blame him for his father's death, she would put that guilt on him as well. She was terrified for him to the point that she didn't want him to even leave her to go off to college. She wanted him to stay, to be there for her, and to be her little whipping boy, forever. She told him that God hates sinners. Therefore, God hated him. His mother hated him.
Suicide was also a sin. He couldn't do that either.
Going to college, he met Ryan. And when he was feeling like he wanted to do nothing but die, Ryan was always so alive. The life of the party and ready for anything. He was tall and lanky, had a pair of blue eyes that shined out from under a mop of wavy brown hair on his head. He was also very rich. Ryan's parents were millionaires who worked in the oil business. And he had found that he'd wanted everything Ryan had to offer. All of it and all at once. The Eagles had a song about people like them. "Life in the Fast Lane".
Over the last three years, Ryan had been the reason he had many firsts in his life. He drank his first beer with him, smoked his first cigarette and then a joint, went to his first concert, first pool party, and first trip to Mexico to cliff dive.
He'd spent all his teenage years studying to be better than everyone else in school so he could get the hell out as soon as possible. He didn't want to leave school, he loved to learn, it was that he wanted to get away from his mother as soon as possible. He had no time for anything else. Not even fun. Besides that, he had no friends. Ryan was not only fun, but he was his first friend. He showed him that there was more to life than books, science, and studying. It was more than insects.
Life was a concert in the smothering heat of a July 4th weekend and getting drunk and stoned as hell and not giving a shit what anyone else thought.
"If we're going to hell, Gil," Ryan had told him once, "then we might as well have as much fun as we can before we get there. I'm on the highway to hell," Ryan screamed out the AC/DC song lyrics before literally pushing him off a cliff in Mexico.
A joint was passed his way and he took a pull off it and passed it along. He had no idea where it came from but didn't care. He knew well enough not to Bogart it. Blowing the smoke out after holding it in, the song came to a close. It was the best damn concert ever.
Once the concert let out, they stumbled back to the El Camino and climbed into the back and spent the rest of the day drinking some more beer and talking with several of the people who'd been parked next to them.
Then, he saw him. The guy Ryan had punched earlier in the day because he'd been hitting on Linda. He was coming their way and he brought friends. Grabbing the tire iron that was next to him in the back of the car, he felt himself smile right before he jumped to the ground and swung.
On that hot summer day, with a tire iron in hand, he let out all his rage and pain as he fought back five guys who wanted to kick him and his best friend's ass over a girl. He wanted the fight not because of Linda, or Ryan, but because it was a thrill, a rush, and he wanted it so damn much. The adrenaline meant he was alive. He felt alive.
Ryan had to pull him back. He had to shove him away as he kept yelling at them. He had no idea what he was saying, but he was certain he meant every last word of it. He was so angry. There was nothing on the inside of his body except anger. He hated them, but mostly, like God and his mother, he hated himself. He wanted the pain.
"Fuck you," one of them said as they limped away with bloody faces, broken or cracked bones, and bruised bodies.
"The same to you, asshole," he yelled right back as Ryan shoved him back again, right into a young woman who'd rushed over to see what was going on.
He turned around to apologize and came up short as he saw her face. Holy hell, she was beautiful. Finding his voice, he said a little breathlessly, "Hi."
"Hi," she said. "Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," he said as he still stared at her like he was in a trance.
"I'm Julia. What's your name?"
What…was his name? He had to think about it because he forgot. Who was he?
"Gil," Ryan said as he draped his arm over his shoulder. "He's Gil. I'm Ryan. That's Linda. Do you want to party with us?"
Then they started talking and he learned that she had come up to the concert from Los Angeles as well, but her friends had ditched her. He noticed her voice, the use of her hands as she talked, and immediately knew that she was going deaf. She had also taken his breath away.
Then when she smiled as he started signing to her, his heart was gone. He'd told her that they could give her a ride back to Los Angeles the next day. They were staying at a motel that night. She could join them. Well, him. Join him because Ryan and Linda had their own room; he was alone.
They got to the motel and Julia put on some music as he brought in their bags. He was suddenly taken by surprise when Julia started kissing him. His head spun as he felt himself start falling. He didn't want to stop.
They kissed some more, drank some more, and then a rolled up hundred-dollar bill was passed his way and he was staring down at a line of white powder in front of him on the table. There had been two lines, now there was only one.
"It'll keep you awake."
~"Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune, something to make us all happy. Do anything, take us out of this gloom. Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy..."~
As Traffic's "Dear Mr. Fantasy" started playing, he stared at the drug that he'd never before in his life actually seen. His head was already spinning with a desire that'd been aching in his body for so long to get out.
~"You are the one who can make us all laugh but doing that you break out in tears. Please don't be sad, if it was a straight mind you had..."~
Julia's lips were on his neck and he forgot how to breathe as he felt her hands on his waist. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd done this before. Of course she had; she'd brought the drugs. But he…He'd never—
~"...we wouldn't have known you all these years..."~
After a moment's hesitation, and feeling her hot breath on his neck, he leaned over to do a hit of cocaine. The instant rush to his head sent a shock wave down his spine and into his body as if he'd been electrocuted. That woke him up. "Oh, damn."
It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He understood the concept of a stimulus. The increased dopamine that caused increased pleasure in the brain and senses. But this was something else entirely.
~"Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune, something to make us all happy..."~
He felt like King Kong. Nothing could bring him down short of a high dive off the top of the Empire State Building. And oh, how he wanted to jump. This was how he took flight.
This was him jumping.
Pure adrenaline filled his body as everything around him intensified. The music that had only been a dull thud came bursting into his head, nearly overwhelming him.
~"Do anything, take us out of this gloom...Sing a song...Play guitar...Make it snappy, yeah yeah..."~
Julia's voice was in his head and the touch of her hands felt like electricity against his skin. Her tongue was in his mouth and he pulled her closer. He felt his hands trembling as she laughed as he fumbled with getting her shirt off. Another pair of hands joined his as Julia helped him out of his shirt as she yanked it off and tossed it to the floor. Then he pulled her to him and started kissing her everywhere he could.
The urge to move was overwhelming as he picked her up in his arms. She instantly wrapped her legs all around him as he laid her down on the bed. As he moved on top of her, he groaned as Julia rubbed over his chest. Hands and lips seemed to be everywhere all at once, sending shivers over his sensitive hot and sweaty skin.
~"Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune...Something to make us all happy..."~
His body felt as if it were on fire as his mind raced with so many thoughts, he was afraid it'd crash and burn. But, despite that, he felt absolutely elated. The euphoria that filled him as he leaned down to kiss her chest was pure joy.
He loved the feeling. He didn't want it to ever stop. All his pain, all his anger, was gone.
~"Do anything, take us out of this gloom...Sing a song...Play guitar...Make it snappy..."~
Her hands pushed him over until he was on his back. She climbed on top. And when she kissed him, it took his mind somewhere else.
~"...You are the one who can make us all laugh, but doing that you break out in tears..."~
The room spun around him. Flickering lights appeared to come out of the walls, ceiling, and up from the floor. He had to close his eyes as a sudden sense of vertigo washed over him.
~"Please don't be sad, if it was a straight mind you had..."~
Hands moved down his body, and then he felt her take him in her hand before she sank herself down and all around--
"Oh, God," he gasped. She was the first woman he'd ever had sex with.
~"...we wouldn't have known you all these years..."~
He nearly shouted as his body was set on fire once she started moving. It was getting hard to breathe. The relentless energy burning as it built up inside until he had to flip her over and take control. He wanted more, all of her, right now.
Her arms wrapped around him as he felt her push up, making him go deeper into her body. It was becoming all too much. They rode the wave that crashed down over top of them until they screamed out in ecstasy.
He wanted to do it again. He never wanted to stop. And for them, it didn't stop.
The second time they had sex, she wanted it rough. She wanted him to smack her. He refused to do it at first. The idea of hitting a woman, even in pleasure, twisted him all up inside. When he told her no, she called him pathetic and worthless. She kept pushing him, urging him on to the point of smacking him to get him to smack her back.
She wanted it. He wanted her.
He smacked her and it killed him. He felt so disgusted. So filthy and wrong. It hurt him more than it did her as she enjoyed it, wanting him to do it again and again. It was just for sex, he told himself. And how she responded made him want to keep her happy. Keep her with him. When she wanted him to tie her up, to make it hurt, make her beg, until she had enough, he did it. Whatever she wanted. He wanted to be enough for her; he wanted to be all she ever wanted and needed.
But nothing was ever enough for Julia. Once he realized that, his heart broken into a million pieces, he had to leave.
He couldn't stay in Los Angeles any longer.
He thought it was over once he left and that he'd never see her again. It had been nine years. Then one night there was a soft knock at his front door and if he hadn't been sitting quietly reading a book, he never would've heard it. Placing the book on the coffee table, he stood to answer the door. Peering through the peephole he spotted the familiar sight of Julia Holden on his doorstep.
He quickly opened the door as he greeted her by speaking and signing at the same time, "Julia? What're you doing in Las Vegas?"
She spoke and signed back, "Can I come in?"
He moved aside to let her in, careful not to give away that he was taking in her long legs that disappeared under the dress at the knee. Shutting the door, he locked it and turned around to find her sitting on the couch, thumbing through the book he'd placed on the table.
He crossed the room and politely took the book from her hand as she asked, "Do you want to have dinner with me," at the same moment he closed the book. He looked at her a moment before walking it over to his bookshelf to put away.
He wanted dinner with her, yes. He also wanted to see the rest of her legs that were under that dress. A desire rose up in him that was a constant in his life. One he's dealt with for most of his life to mixed results. There were parts of him that most people didn't know about, and he wanted to keep it that way. The first thing he didn't want anyone to know about him was that he was an addict. He had a problem with obsessing and becoming addicted to things that were extremely bad for him. Sex was one of those things. There were many sources of his blame, one of them was the woman sitting in front of him.
She leaned back into the couch and when she crossed her legs, the low-cut dress rose up her leg. Her eyes were locked onto his with a seductive desire that was causing him to lose his grip on his well-crafted control. The heat was creeping up into his neck, making his head feel hot. His chest was already on fire with tightening growing within the pit of his stomach. It was sexual need and want. He wanted her; to take her in every possible way.
And that was the problem. She nearly ruined him. There was a reason he decided to take the job offer in Las Vegas, aside from being able to play poker, and that reason was Julia Holden. She was also the reason why he didn't really date anymore. It wouldn't matter if he did because he was never good enough; always doing the wrong thing or saying the wrong thing. Always putting his work before the woman. He also didn't let himself fall in love. He couldn't let anyone love him. He couldn't even figure out how to love himself.
He'd been burned, and Julia had given him the scars.
"Julia, I, uh…I—" He could see it in her eyes as she uncrossed her legs and let her knees open.
He had been wrong. He hated himself for being so wrong.
Feeling his control dissolve into a puddle at his feet, he went to her. It'd been so long. The feel of her body under his hands, her lips on his lips, and the smell of her scent had invaded his dreams ever since he left. He couldn't stop her like could all the other women that he'd been with. That word didn't exist when it came to Julia. She was intoxicating. There was no stopping his desire for her. He still loved her.
He sank to his knees and before he could tell himself no, moved her dress further up her thighs. His eyes shot up at what he saw. She was completely naked. "Dinner?" he asked with a smirk.
She knew exactly what she was doing as she laughed a little. Julia Holden wasn't the prim and proper girl she made herself out to be most of the time. She liked to drink, smoke, party, do drugs, and have sex. A lot of sex. Between actual dinner dates, they spent a lot of alone time together. It was everything they both wanted it to be: wild and untamed. She was a bad girl and he showed her how much of a bad boy he was under his own pretense of being the perfect gentleman.
It wasn't about love because he couldn't let it be. It was about pleasure. Just sex, nothing more. A wondrous affair that had to stop the moment she went back to Los Angeles.
A week before she was supposed to leave, she told him over breakfast. /Gil/ she signed after getting his attention, /I'm pregnant./
As his mind tried to process what she'd told him, she slid his wedding ring across the table. She wasn't leaving Las Vegas. She couldn't.
They were pregnant.
There was a beeping in his head and awoke to the alarm going off. He swore he just went to sleep a second ago. Reaching over, he turned it off and rolled out of bed and stepped into the master bath and took a quick shower. Then he re-dressed, grabbed his keys and sunglasses off the kitchen table, and left.
Before he headed to the school, he put the top down on the convertible. Charlotte had gone to school without ribbons in her hair. Running out of school, there were pink, purple, and green ribbons wrapped up in her hair. Her hands were signing so fast he barely caught half of what she was saying before she was once again in his arms.
The party was a blast. She had a big piece of carrot cake. Noodles got out of the classroom, and they all had to chase him down the hallway. He's fine, dad! Her friend Michelle did her hair. /Do you like it, daddy?/
/I love it, spider/ he told her after he got her buckled into the backseat and kissed her forehead.
As promised, he drove her to get ice cream, and to his daughter's surprise, it was at Circus Circus's Adventuredome. For hours they played games, went through the funhouse, and rode the carousel eight times in a row because Charlotte was going to be eight years old. That had been her reasoning and he was perfectly okay with her logic. When Charlotte saw the Miner Mike roller coaster she went running over and literally jumped in line. It was her favorite. She was still too little for the big roller coaster, Canyon Blaster—which was the world's largest indoor double-loop, double-corkscrew roller coaster—but he could ride it. Aside from sex and the cases he worked, riding roller coasters was the only adrenaline rush that he allowed himself now-a-days.
Bending down, he asked Charlotte, /Is it okay if I ride this one?/
/It's okay. I'll be fine with Ashton./ Ashton was the current ride operator. She hurried over to Ashton, who waved at him as he got on the ride.
It was well after the sun had set over the mountains to the west when they picked up a pizza for dinner and went home. As soon as they walked inside his townhouse, Charlotte ran up the stairs to her bedroom to visit with her pet spider Henry. Henry was named after Henry Fussy from Charlotte's Web. He was Fern's best friend. Dropping the pizza box on the table, he went up the stairs and stopped at the first door on the left as he looked in after his daughter.
She got Henry out of the terrarium and held him in her small hands as she placed him on the floor to walk around. She was signing to him the whole time like Henry could read her words. When he asked her about it, she told him, /He can, daddy. Spiders have eight eyes!/ That had been her reasoning for conversing with Henry. It was a pretty good argument. She was always making pretty good logical arguments all the time; he was certain she'd make a damn good attorney one day.
Her room was painted in her favorite colors: pink, green, and purple. The same colors as the ribbons in her hair. Aladdin bed sheets and blanket covered her bed. It was her favorite movie of all-time. She watched it at least once a day. He had a DVD copy of it in his DVD player that was ready to play the moment she asked to watch it.
On the walls were framed butterflies that he'd made for her along with framed photos of them together. A Los Angeles Dodgers baseball hat was on the back of her chair in front of the vanity along with her Dodgers little league jersey; baseball equipment was in the corner by the closet. On top of the vanity was an ant farm and taped on the mirror were pictures of them.
She added one more row of photos to the others. Before they left, they gathered into the photo booth. Most of the pictures taken were silly ones, Charlotte had said, as they all made goofy faces trying to make each other laugh. Then they signed "I love you" in the last photo.
As he watched her, he couldn't help but smile. She was truly the best thing that ever happened to him.
He'd just gotten off shift a little over two hours ago. It'd been a rough night with a triple homicide, one of the victims a toddler, and both he and Adam Rodriguez had been assigned the case, one the homicide detective and the other the lead CSI. The detective had asked him out for a drink after shift. At first it was supposed to have been a drink at a bar but it ended up as an invite to a poker game.
He'd been in the middle of the game, three beers in and working on a fourth with a full house in his hand, when his pager went off. It was his wife and it was urgent. 9-1-1 urgent. Tossing the cards down that would have won him the pot, he grabbed up the cordless phone and called the number.
"Gil," at the voice he heard, his fear spiked as she said, "my water broke. The ambulance will be here soon."
Everything else was forgotten as he told her, "I'm on my way."
He slammed the phone down as he turned to see Rodriguez picking up the cards and looking at them. "Thanks for the game. I'm leaving."
"You have a full house here, Gil. What's the hurry?"
"I have to get to the hospital," he said again as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. He looked around at the other three people at the table, all cops, as he said, "Next week?"
Rodriguez chuckled as he told him, "Every Wednesday night. Hey, uh, anything we should be aware of going on at the hospital?"
"It's not regarding a case." He was going to be a dad, but he wasn't going to tell any of them that.
He left the apartment and ran down the flight of stairs to the secure parking garage on the lower level. The top was down on the convertible, and he jumped into the driver's seat and jammed the key into the ignition then gunned it to the hospital.
Walking through the halls, he felt the anticipation building. The fear along with the excitement were mixing together into one big lump of nervousness in his stomach. So many questions and doubts were going through his brain. Who was he to be a father? What kind of father would he be? How–?
He saw his mother in the hallway as she spotted him. Upon learning the news that she was going to be a grandmother, she sold the house and moved out to Las Vegas to be closer to her grandchild. He quickly signed to her, /Where are they?/
She frowned at him and signed, /I hope you're not this neglectful with your child. Where have you been?/
He tried to ignore her and all her underhanded comments but that one stung. Instead of going home like he was supposed to, Julia was having complications which made them fear that she was due any day now, he went off to play poker. Getting to the hospital room, he saw Julia resting comfortably in the bed. She hadn't given birth yet. It could be hours.
It had been nine hours to be exact. And he had to call off work so he wouldn't miss the birth of his daughter. Through it all, his questions mounted, fears grew, until his little girl was placed in his arms. As he stared down at her in awe, saw her eyes blinking up at him, he fell completely in love. She was beautiful. She was everything.
There was a tap on his shoulder. The nurse wanted to know the name. Julia was groggy and halfway asleep from the medication and labor. His mother didn't know what name they'd decided on. Clearing his dry throat, he told the nurse, "Charlotte. Charlotte Rosita Grissom."
Smiling back down at Charlotte, his little spider, he knew that he'd always try to do his best for her. That was a promise he could keep.
Looking to Julia's left hand, he saw her wearing her wedding ring. They had a child together and they were both Catholic. There was no such thing as a divorce.
So, they had to compromise. They would continue to remain legally married until Charlotte turned eighteen years old, or until Julia met someone whom she wanted to marry. Only then would she grant him a divorce. It didn't matter if he fell in love with another woman and wanted to remarry. It was never ever about what he wanted. Julia was just like his mother: smothering.
He went back down the step and grabbed a slice of pizza out of the box. As he ate it, he checked his phone messages. Charlotte ran down the steps just as he heard a message from Sara. She was at a crime scene and there were bugs. She missed him. Sara was also the best thing in his life.
Charlotte ate one slice of pizza and then wanted to watch her movie. He made her take a bath first and change into her pajamas. Then she curled up on the couch with a big bag of popcorn as he hit play on the DVD. He went back to the kitchen table and continued working on the same crossword puzzle from that morning while he ate.
Looking up, he watched as his daughter spun around the living room floor. The closed captions were showing across the bottom of the screen, and even though she couldn't hear the music but only felt it on the floor as he had the speakers placed down on top of them, she was dancing while signing the words to the song "A Whole New World".
After the movie, Charlotte ate another slice of the pizza, yawned, and then went to her room. He followed behind her and steered her to the bathroom and signed, /Brush your teeth before bed./ She rolled her eyes at him but did as she was told.
He sat on her bed as she grabbed a book from her bookshelf. He signed the words as she read quietly along until she snuggled up beside him, closed her eyes, and was out like a light. With his hand in her hair, he watched her sleeping as a thousand thoughts ran through his mind.
It'd been four years since Sara came to Vegas. Three years since he told her that he loved her. And now that Charlotte was old enough to understand who Sara was in his life and to make her own decision on whether or not it was okay for Sara to join them, maybe it was time to introduce them. He never wanted to make his daughter feel uncomfortable, or to bring another woman into her life only for the woman to disappear one day.
Sara wasn't just any other woman, though. She was the woman he loved. The woman he wanted to marry.
He just hoped that it wouldn't be this secret that tore them apart.
TBC…
Disclaimer songs mentioned: "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. "Dear Mr. Fantasy" by Traffic. "Life in the Fast Lane" by The Eagles.
And for the kids: "A Whole New World" from Aladdin.